You Blow me Away
by irregular-pioneer
Summary: First Destiel fic. I'm also only on season 5, so, please be kind about my characterization. Dean comes home from a hunt to be surprised by his favorite angel.


Dean Winchester had just gotten home from a hunt, smelling of soil and the deceased. Covered in monster blood, he crashed through the flimsy door of the two-star motel and threw his duffel bag on the brightly colored, severely tousled bedspread. Disrobing himself on his small trek to the bathroom, he stepped inside. He turned the slightly rusted knob on the shower before stepping into the slightly warm water, running his hands through his hair as he waited for the shower to heat up more. His own voice rang out against the linoleum, singing out classic rock, harmonizing with the loud rush of water as he turned around to find the shampoo, squeezing the entire, doll-house-sized bottle into his hand, letting out a yelp when he turned back around, caught with his hands in his soapy hair.

"Hello, Dean."

"Gah— dammit, Cas. I told you about sneaking up on me, especially when I'm buck-ass nude."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said, loosening his tie and taking off his trench coat, "Would it help if I was disrobed as well?"

Dean's chuckle echoed in the small space as he titled his head back into the stream of water, washing the soapy residue from his hair as the angel awkwardly lost all his clothing, "Whatever floats your boat."

"We're not in a boat, Dean. And, as far as I'm concerned, showers don't float," Cas said, using some effort to release his feet from his dress shoes and socks before before removing himself from his pants and boxers.

"It's just a saying, Cas, I know we're not in a boat," he replied, returning his head to level. Silently looking him up and down with exploring green eyes, Dean stepped a little closer to him before resting his hand on the small of his back, drawing him nearer with a small laugh.

"What's so funny?" the angel asked, searching Dean's face for a second before a small smile spread over his own face, pleased to see him so genuinely happy.

"Nothing, Cas, I just haven't seen you stripped down to your pelt before. I like it, I like you like this," he grinned, pressing Cas closer to him again underneath the unsteady stream of iron-rich, bloody-smelling motel water.

Cas hummed, nodding slightly as he reached behind Dean and emptied the conditioner bottle into his hand and ran his fingers through the hunter's hair lovingly, catching his eyes in his own, exciting a small laugh from Dean, along with a small kiss on the lips.

One kiss turned into two, and two turned into a fluid succession of dancing lips and grazing tongues and wandering hands tracing the smalls of backs and the bones of thrusting hips. "Blow me, Cas," Dean quietly commanded against Cas' mouth, chuckling silently as Cas let out a small stream of air against his neck, "Not exactly what I meant, but, thank you."

Cas hummed placing a kiss at the base of Dean's neck before cautiously sliding down his body, nodding when he was given silent encouragement. "This is what you want, yes?"

Dean nodded, running a few fingers over the top of Cas' head and weaving them through his dark hair, gently guiding him towards the tip of his erection, which Cas carefully flicked his tongue against. "Keep going, it's okay," Dean moaned, feeling himself becoming enveloped inside of his angel's warm, wet mouth, fingers grabbing onto where they rested, intertwined in his hair.

Cas' tongue grazed along Dean's undercarriage and met at his head gently, drawing circles along it with ease as the hunter made a cacophony of quiet moans and grunts. Slightly pushing his hips back and forth into the angel's warm mouth, Dean found his quick release, digging his fingers gently into Cas' scalp as he came loudly against his companion's tongue.

"Are you done?" Cas asked, wiping sticky residue from his mouth as he met Dean's face again with a light kiss. Once he got an answer, he took the bar of sickly green soap and began to awkwardly rub it onto his partner's body.

"I, I got it, Cas. Thanks," he replied to the action, snatching the soap from the angel's hand in order to wash himself properly as Cas attempted to coax any amount of shampoo or conditioner out of the impractically small bottles.

"You're welcome," Cas said, managing to get minuscule amounts of product from their containers, putting the combination of shampoo and conditioner into his dark locks, watching Dean as he struggled to get a lather out of the soap.

The two men washed their bodies in relative ease and silence, the hot, iron-rich water for several minutes, letting the heat and the unsteady stream wash away their day until they were ready to be released from each other's close company once more.


End file.
